Better?

I’ve got a throbbing headache right now. I seem to have one every morning these days. I’m assuming it’s stress related. I’m very susceptible to stress. Considering what’s been going on around here recently I should be on the floor trying to smash my skull in with a hammer just for a few seconds of peace.

Robert is better. I think he was still going through his psychotic episode when he did whatever it was that he thought he was doing. A big warning to me that I need to keep a better eye on him, and that he really, really needs to start seeing this therapist. I can’t save him from himself. I can barely manage to hold my own insanity together. I need to see him actually trying. Outside of that, I don’t know. I really don’t know.

Got my x-rays done. You literally cannot see the break in the bone any longer. When you zoom way out and look at it you can see a slight color change in the area but beyond that, and some remaining bone callus, you’d never guess I’d have broken it at all. So, looks like I’ll be able to start doing all those things I’ve been unable to do previously because I couldn’t walk on my foot. All those things over the past, almost year. Yep. All those things. Can totally do them now. Getting up and standing and walking? No longer a barrier. Not any more. Nothing stopping me. No limitations. Can totally do whatever I want.

I ain’t gonna do shit.

Not right away anyway. I’m in a different place than I was last year, both physically and psychologically. I’m going through a lot of things with Robert and my therapist now, something that wasn’t an issue back then. Well, that’s not true. They were totally issues, have been for years and my entire life respectively, but I was keeping them either at arms length or deeply buried… respectively, again. And those are just my relationship and psychological issues. Physically I’m in a much worse place now. I used to be able to walk all over the place, with issue of course, but I could do it. Now, walking a few blocks is murder on me. So I need to get back into better shape before I can get my self into better shape. Why does this all feel like some sort of game of whack-a-mole?

Been feeling a lot less motivated and a lot more lost. I currently no longer have a therapist. The one I was being transferred to doesn’t have space for me. As such, I’m in a holding pattern until something can be done about it. Either I get transferred to someone else or a slot opens up. I don’t begrudge them any of this. They have so many patients and receive so little funding to begin with. It’s just some of the worst timing possible for me personally.

Okay, I’m done for now. There are things swimming around in my head that I shouldn’t say. Can’t say. I just never got my peopling handbook. I didn’t lose it. It wasn’t stolen. I simply never got it.

I’m going to go bury my emotions with food before they overwhelm me. Overwhelm me. Overwhelm me.

There is no me.

I’m scared

Robert literally just… I don’t know. He said “I’m sorry,” then reached over and grabbed a bottle of pills off the table, opened it, and then tried to dump it down his throat. I managed to stop him and he didn’t really resist but still. I don’t think there would have been any real long term ramifications (I don’t think that particular med was all that dangerous), I’m just worried out of my skull now.

He’s sleeping I guess. Told me the voices in his head stopped talking after whatever he was trying to do and laid down.

I really don’t know what to do now.

false

I feel so… sticky. I need a scrubby shower. Am I gonna take one? I really, really should but at the same time, I just don’t feel like it. My stomach is more than a little upset with me (probably from the pain pills I took earlier) and my head and eyes are still hurting (despite the pain pills I took earlier). It’s a carb hangover. I was doing so well too. I took no insulin the night before last and I was 120 in the morning. That’s like a miracle for me. Then… Robert. Me… ‘fridge. Carbs… belly. Sugar… sky high. I really had to dope myself up last night to see 150 earlier. Actually, I should check again.

97.

But that was with taking 5 units while fasting. Ugh… My blood sugar is so difficult for me to control. I’m never sure what’s going to cause spikes or crashes. Sometimes it’s white rice. Sometimes not. Pizza dough has caused issues for me in the past. Until it doesn’t. Even fasting will sometimes lead to high readings in the morning. I can only say that lots of exercise (a hour or more of brisk walking after eating) seems to be the only thing that regularly lowers it. Of course with my foot…

MY GODDAMN MOTHER FUCKING FOOT!

Breath! Breath. I see the nurse later this week and I’m so hoping she’s going to tell me that ulcer is healing, if not healed. Then I get my x-rays on Friday and on the 3rd I see the podiatrist who WILL tell me that broken bone is healed. No hoping. No wishing. She will say it’s healed and that I can walk on it again. Then… I dunno.

Last year I was being really good with keeping track of my eating and my insulin and all that jazz. Maybe it’s time to start doing that all again. I remember how I was doing it so it won’t be hard. Start getting myself to the gym. Stop hating everything that I am.

If I could find one thing, just one little thing to grab on to and hold on to to tell myself that I’m not that terrible or lost or whatever the hell it is that I am that other people aren’t. Anything, just to keep myself motivated, even in the short term. I can do better. I just need to do okay for now. I just need to do at all.

I can still feel the heat. The scent of dust on a summer sidewalk. That summer sidewalk. That stupid pole is still there. It’s always there. Just like the music.

I’ve got to get out of me.

Is it Fall already?

My therapist is leaving. He spent a good deal of our appointment today reassuring me that his replacement would be a good fit and that his wanting to get me working with her as soon as possible (he’s not actually leaving for a few weeks still) wasn’t a reflection on me. I really don’t know what he was so worried about. We only met a few times and those few times were often, actually I think always, weeks apart. I never really had the chance to attach to him and I would prefer he get me re-situated as soon as possible in order to lesson the burden on himself. I tend to be extremely accommodating. Except when I’m not.

So, I may be starting with my new therapist as soon as next week. She’s apparently much more well versed in things like anxiety disorders and PTSD. He asked me if I had a gender preference and I told him no. That wasn’t completely the truth as there are certain things I’m not certain I would feel comfortable discussing with a female therapist, but for the current situation I don’t see any real friction.

Just up late feeling tired. Feeling fat. Feeling ugly. I was dealt another blow with my foot. After breaking a really bad bone and developing several blisters I now have a diabetic ulcer on the bottom of my foot. What caused it? Walking. What can I not do anymore? Walking. Every time I feel like I’m starting to make some sort of progress something new comes up with my foot and it’s back to sitting or laying again. I just can’t seem to get past this issue. I mean, we signed up for the YMCA last November and I haven’t been able to go since December. It is now almost FUCKING OCTOBER! What the hell is going on? I mean, really!

Thankfully she said it was small and it should heal quickly and I’m going to see her again early next month after I get my new x-rays done. If that damn bone still isn’t healed… I’m expecting it to be though. It’s been almost 10 months since I broke it after all.

In the mean time, I’m in a new shoe. For the third time. I have the boot, then she gave me a foam shoe because of the blisters, and now I’m wearing something really odd. It’s kind of like a high heal with the heal turned around. It’s supposed to keep me from putting any pressure on the ulcer. I think it was designed to kill me though as the damn thing has absolutely no grip on tile, of which my kitchen, bedroom hallway, and bathroom are all inlaid with. It’s been like some horrifying Disney on Ice show around here lately. The ulcer may heal fine but I’m probably going to end up breaking a leg well before that.

Almost an entire year now dealing with this foot situation. And that’s not taking into account the fact that my original issue, the way my ankle bows out and keeps me from walking well, has yet to even begin to be dealt with.

Guess that’s it for bitching tonight.

Go away.